


The Hidden Truth

by Clarounette



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarounette/pseuds/Clarounette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael had to hide his feelings for over a year. How will he react when James will make a joke - again - about a sexual relationship between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hidden Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fassavoy Fortnightly 7 on LJ.  
> Inspired by the last joke of Mr Troll McAvoy during the Empire Awards.

"Hey Tom! How are you?" Michael shook Hiddleston's hand. It was a long time since he last saw him, and he liked the guy. Always fun to talk to.  
"Fine, you?" Tom answered.  
With Prometheus' release approaching, he had to attend several awards ceremonies and interviews. It was tiring, even with Charlize. She was nice and had a good sense of humour, but she wasn't _him_. He knew James was here, somewhere. The Empire Awards weren't something he was usually waiting for. He wasn't even impatient to receive his award. And James was here only as a host. But they would be able to meet in the ballroom. He couldn't wait to see him again, after all these months.  
"… about you." Tom had kept talking but Michael wasn't listening, lost in his thoughts about the blue-eyed man.  
"Sorry, what did you say?" He should pay more attention to what was happening around him. Even though he wasn't as much thrilled as he should be about the Hero award, he had to look the part. Being caught gazing into space wouldn't do him any good.  
"I said I was next to McAvoy on the red carpet, and he was talking about you." Tom repeated.  
Michael's heart skipped a beat. He had spent the last months thinking about the Scotsman, dreaming about him. He couldn't believe how hard he fell for him. James was charming, funny and talented, true. But Michael had met other people as charming, funny and talented as him, and never felt for them more than admiration. There was something else in James that attracted him. A lot. Was it his sexy mouth? Or the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled? He didn't have a clue. But he couldn't forget him.  
And even though they had fun during the filming and even during the press junkets, he had lost contact with James after the last interview. He had thought James didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. But now Tom was telling him the Scotsman had talked about him to an interviewer?  
"Really? What did he say about me?"  
"Not about you" Tom said, pointing a finger to Michael's chest. "About James and you."  
Michael was back to almost a year ago. There was a James and him again. Like when they spent most of their days together.  
"So?"  
"He said you had sex every morning while you were shooting X-Men. Is that true?" Tom laughed whole-heartedly.  
Michael's colours drained off his face. A wave of nausea went through him. He found an excuse to leave Tom and went back to the main room.

James was nowhere to be seen.  
Michael's mind was a mess. It was the second time already that the Scotsman implied there was something more than friendship between them. And all the flirting! It made him sick. He sipped at his glass of Scotch. The alcohol burned his throat and his head felt lighter. He already had too many drinks for his own good.  
Not that he didn't want anything to happen between them. On the contrary: it was his most cherished dream. He dreamed of those lips, how they would feel against his own, their flavour on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to glide his palms on James' pale skin. He would have killed kittens to be allowed to lick that gorgeous neck and suck a hickey on James' collarbone. It was a torture to be so close to someone one was attracted to, and to remain a friend. Never a lover.  
But James was evil. He was playing with him. Was it a conscious thing? Could James be blind to the lust in Michael's eyes whenever he was looking at the younger man? And what was the purpose of those insanely arousing lines he was feeding to the press? Michael knew the man enough to know that he wasn't after cheap publicity. He remained a discreet and private man. Michael passed his hand through his hair. He was going crazy.  
At last he saw James at the other end of the room. He was shaking hands and saying goodbye. Odds were he was about to leave the ceremony. But Michael had something to tell him...

Twenty minutes later, he stood in front of James' house. He had followed the cab his friend had taken throughout London. When the car had stopped, he had driven a few more blocks away before stopping too.  
Lights were on in the living room, and Michael could see James' shadow through the curtains. The street was quiet. It was so late already that everybody was sleeping, and the sidewalk looked deserted.  
Michael crossed the street. It was time for him to confront the Scotsman.  
He knocked on the door. A few seconds later, James opened it. As soon as he saw who was waiting on his threshold, a large smile curved his lips. Michael thought it certainly was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it was just for him. But as much as it was enjoyable, the smile was also deceptive. It didn't mean what Michael dreamed for it to mean. It was warm and friendly, not hot and seductive.  
Michael pushed the door violently and entered without being invited to. Quite astonished, James stared at him, petrified in his house's hallway. He noticed the frown on Michael's brow.  
"Michael? What is this about?" James sounded distressed. For a second, Michael regretted making him suffer like this, but he himself had suffered through months and months of lovesickness and useless pinning. He couldn't do it anymore. This had to stop.  
He turned around and let James close the door. The younger man was waiting nervously. Michael then stepped forward and wrapped his hand around James' throat. The Scotsman almost chocked, scared by Michael's anger. "You're a fucking bastard, you know that?" Michael growled.  
James swallowed noisily. His eyes were searching for Michael's. He didn't understand what was happening, obviously. Michael chose to enlighten him. "How could you joke about that? Didn't you notice how I feel?"  
It dawned on James, what Michael was talking about. He had known when he said it that he shouldn't have, but it was already too late. Michael was a proud man. Of course he wouldn't take a joke like that lightly – again. He could smell alcohol in Michael's breath.  
"I'm sorry, my friend." He almost laughed at his use of this word. Their characters had slowly invaded their lives during the filming. Their relationship was so similar to that of Erik and Charles he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, surprised to still have feelings in his legs. The anger in Michael's eyes reminded him so much of Erik's rage. It was disconcerting. He just had to hope the situation wouldn't come to violence. The hand on his neck wasn't strong yet, but he had to be careful.  
"Are you?" Michael asked. "It seems so easy for you to talk about the mind-blowing sex we have, when I'm not even allowed to touch you..." Pain and sadness passed through Michael's eyes.  
James frowned. "Allowed to? What do you mean?"  
"I had to watch you for months without touching you. To look into your eyes, trying to not drown in them. To joke and have fun with you, when sometimes I hurt so much I wanted to cry. To look at your lips without kissing them..." The dam was broken and words flooded out of his mouth. He couldn't stop them. Michael tried to ignore the moisture gathering at the corner of his eyes and kept smiling, a dangerous grin on his lips.  
Michael's words were crashing in James' head like waves on a shore. He hadn't realised that... How could he have misunderstood...  
"Are you saying that you... wanted something from me?" James was usually eloquent. But unexpectedly he was shying away from what Michael was implying. Like saying the word 'sex' aloud would make it real. Ironic, when it was what provoked the situation they were in.  
"You didn't know? God, I've been pinning after you for over a year." Michael sighed. "Can you imagine how I felt when you joked about us having sex?"  
James gently brushed his fingers on the hand that was still wrapped around his throat. "I'm so sorry, Michael. If I had known..."  
"What would you have done?" Hope echoed in Michael's voice. It was painful to hear.  
"I don't know. Honestly I don't know. But I don't want to hurt you. Ever." The fingers around his neck loosened. James turned his head toward Michael. "You're too precious to me." He forced a gentle smile on his lips. He had to convinced Michael. He was his friend, that much he was sure about.  
Michael's eyes glimmered. He let go of James' throat, and his arms fell limply by his sides. When his lower lip started to tremble, James wrapped his arms around the taller man.  
"Shh." He whispered. "It's okay. You're my friend. My precious friend." Michael was sobbing on his shoulder, like a lost child.  
James wasn't sure what his feelings about Michael were. True he had sometimes felt weird urges toward him. But they had time to figure it out. In the meantime, he would stop telling jokes about sex between them until, maybe, someday, they wouldn't be jokes anymore.


End file.
